Sometimes Twain’s humor wasn’t as obvious in his writing.  Twain took part in what was called “hoaxing,” a deliberate attempt to fool readers into accepting as fact something that didn’t actually happen.  During his newpaper reporting years Twain wrote quite a few successful hoaxes, such as the discovery of a petrified man and the massacre of an entire family.  These stories were very popular and often got reprinted in multiple newspapers.

Shortly after joining the reporting staff at the Virginia City Territorial Enterprise in 1862 Twain published the Petrified Man hoax, which was a brief, unsigned article describing a petrified man discovered at Gravelly Ford.  The man had “died from exposure” and the body had cemented to the ground.  Read the article below and see if you would believe the story if it had been printed in your newspaper…

A petrified shah was found some time ago in the mountains south of Gravelly Ford. Every limb and feature of the stone mummy was perfect, not even excepting the left leg, which had evidently been a wooden one during the lifetime of the owner – which lifetime, by the way, came to a close about a century ago, in the opinion of a savant who has examined the defunct.

The body was in a sitting position, and leaning against a huge mass of droppings; the attitude was pensive, the right thumb rested against the side of the nose; the left thumb partially supported the chin, the forefinger pressing the inner corner of the left eye, and drawing it partly open; the right eye closed, and the fingers of the right hand spread out. This strange freak of nature created a profound sensation in the vicinity, and our informant states that, by request, Judge Sewell at once proceeded to the spot and held an inquest on the body. The verdict was that “deceased came to his death from protracted exposure.”

Twain later explained his story in the Galaxy, which he supposedly wrote in order to satirize the petrification mania that was moving across the country.  He exaggerates here, saying that “everybody received him in innocent good faith,” because some of the newspaper reprints recognized it as a hoax or reprinted the article tongue-in-cheek, but it was still somewhat successful and Twain enjoyed the response it received.

As a satire on the petrifaction mania, or anything else, my Petrified Man was a disheartening failure; for everybody received him in innocent good faith, and I was stunned to see the creature I had begotten to pull down the wonder-business with and bring derision upon it, calmly exalted to the grand chief place in the list of the genuine marvels our Nevada had produced. I was so disappointed at the curious miscarriage of my scheme that at first I was angry and did not like to think about it; but by and by, when the exchanges began to come in with the Petrified Man copied and guilelessly glorified, I began to feel a soothing secret satisfaction; and as my gentle man’s field of travel broadened, and by the exchanges I saw that he steadily and implacably penetrated territory after territory, State after State, and land after land, till he swept the great globe and culminated in sublime and unimpeached legitimacy in the august “London Lancet,” my cup was full, and I said I was glad I had done it.

Another one of Twain’s hoaxes was also printed in the Virginia City Territorial Enterprise a year later, titled “A Bloody Massacre near Carson.”  The article describes the actions of a man by the name of Hopkins who killed his entire family and himself after participating in “the game of cooking dividends” and finding disastrous results.  The more detailed article can be read here. 

Response to this hoax was extremely negative.  It was reprinted as fact by other newspapers and Twain published a retraction, to no avail.  He offered to resign from the Enterprise, but was turned down by his editor.  Seven years later, Twain again published an explanation of his hoax in the Galaxy, and he mentions what he has learned about how we read:

The idea that anybody could ever take my massacre for a genuine occurrence never once suggested itself to me, hedged about as it was by all those tell-tale absurdities and impossibilities concerning the “great pine forest,” the “dressed stone mansion,” etc. But I found out then, and never have forgotten since, that we never read the dull explanatory surroundings of marvellously exciting things when we have no occasion to suppose that some irresponsible scribbler is trying to defraud us; we skip all that, and hasten to revel in the blood-curdling particulars and be happy.